You Gotta Fight For Your Right
To party. But I didn’t fight. And while I appreciate the work required to put together the memorial for my Dad this weekend — and everything which people had to say about him at it — it wasn’t a party. He asked for a party.
After the event, a smaller crowd gathered for pizza, beer, and wine. The kids present played outside. Some of us, later, snuck into the basement to watch the Mars landing.
In other words, after the memorial, there was a party, which was what he asked for in his will, but not everyone got to go to that.
While I appreciate the work required to put together the memorial for my Dad this weekend — and everything which people had to say about him at it — there should have just been what happened afterwards. Pizza, beer, wine, kids playing, people doing as they do.
But I didn’t fight for it. I kept seeing the planning veer further and further towards what originally I had insisted rather vehemently it not become, but I didn’t do anything about it.
And now, there’s nothing to be done. It’s too late. He demanded a party. And I didn’t make sure that’s what he got.